OVER THE past two days Lukas had called her, texted her, e-mailed her, written to her, sent her flowers, and even tried to see her in person again. Natalia would not have any of it, and effectively ignored every one of his attempts to get her back. Something he found very frustrating.

Lukas was staying in his own home again, hunched at his desk. His Vicodin had reduced the ache in his foot and the only sound in his house was the clicking of his pen hitting his teeth. His indigo eyes stared out the window, watching snow come down in a blizzard. In front of him was a yellow legal pad, untouched and the only sign of use the remains of torn away pages.

The man sighed angrily and leaned back in his chair, throwing the pen onto the desk and running a hand through his blonde hair. Lukas closed his eyes and lifted his good foot to rest on the desk. He was desperate at this point. All of his feelings pressed into letters and voicemails and e-mails. It wasn't working. But Natalia had a certain appeal to another form of affection. It'd just cost his wallet. Lukas got up, stopping to stretch and crack his back. He grabbed his coffee mug off the desk, and headed to the kitchen for another cup. Finding that the pot was empty.

Lukas groaned and started to make another one. He waited in the kitchen as it brewed, and his fingers drifted to the cellphone in his pocket. He sat up straight and stared at it, one thought popping into his head. Brigitte. Just where was Brigitte? Why the hell hadn't they talked? He quickly dialed her number and waited for her to answer.

It wasn't Brigitte's high-pitched and childish voice that answered though. Instead a gruff, annoyed, voice responded with a blunt, "What do you want?"

Lukas would have been outraged if he wouldn't have been a total hypocrite in doing so, "Um, who is this?"

"You're the one who called." The voice said lazily.

Lukas swallowed his sarcastic tone after deciding he didn't like the man, "May I speak to Brigitte please?"

"Depends on who you are… Are you her jackass boyfriend?"

"… No." Lukas's mind raced, "I'm her friend, Emil."

"Hm… well it doesn't matter she's saying that she doesn't want to talk to anybody… Hey, what do you want me to say?! You get over here and talk to him." He spoke to somebody in the room with him. Lukas could only assume it was Brigitte.

"If she's right there can't I just speak to her?" Lukas asked, "I need to talk to her."

"No. She just left. She'll probably feel like talking when she gets back to your area though."

"My area?" Lukas questioned. Had she left sometime? "Where is she?"

"… She's in the Netherlands, but I assume she means to go back… At some point…" The man paused, then coughed, "Brigitte will talk to you when she feels like it… It was nice to meet you Evan."

Lukas sat with the phone still held to his ear, stunned. Who was that? And why was Brigitte with him in Holland? He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples, trying to calm himself. He shouldn't freak out, it wouldn't help. It was probably just her brother. He should figure out what he was going to do, then how he was going to do it.

Lukas got up and poured himself another mug of coffee. First of all, he needed to let Brigitte go. Gently. She didn't deserve to be crushed or shunned or anything. She really was a sweet girl. But what could he tell her to make her hate him? The truth would work. But it would hurt. Although maybe they'd had enough lies in this twisted relationship – no, fiasco. The truth would be a nice breath of fresh air for everybody. (Maybe more like a chilly, howling wind. But fresh nonetheless.)

He could move away, take to the sea on his currently neglected boat. Change his name and…

No, that wasn't even something to joke about. Just thinking about leaving Emil behind nearly broke his heart. Lukas shook his head of his muddled thoughts and searched for something more productive to focus on.

His phone came alive, ringing and vibrating on the table. Lukas glanced at the number and quickly picked up, "Hello?"

An automated message greeted his ears, making the man swear under his breath. It was a computer he'd heard many times: The one that called when your child skipped class. Lukas didn't bother listening to the whole thing, and hung up after making sure it was Emil that they were calling for. He'd been happily surprised once, but just once.

Lukas turned his phone off and put it back on the table. He'd had enough phone calls in one day. Enough human contact to be perfectly honest. He left the kitchen, leaving his coffee, and found a seat on the couch in the living room. A rough hand grabbed his laptop then the other grabbed his TV remote. With the news on low, Lukas opened his computer to spend the rest of the day relaxing on the internet.

Emil went home early, done with school and teachers and typical teenage problems. He was drained, enough to push aside his worries about Tino's reactions. And definitely too drained to really listen to the man's scolding. He stood in the entryway staring at his shoes and flexing his fists in his pockets. He only caught snippets of Tino's speech.

Tino noticed, "Emil!" He shouted.

The teen glanced up at him.

"What did I just say?!"

Emil was disgusted. He sounded like the teachers that treated him like a child. The adults that never believed in him. His older brother. He felt betrayed, Tino had always been a figure he could count on as a friend and caregiver.

"I don't know." Emil mumbled, he shrugged, "Don't really care either."

Tino bit back his initial response, pausing to control his anger. Emil dared to look him straight in the face. His eyes were deadly, and Emil couldn't recall seeing him this upset. Tino let loose a noise of frustration and pointed at the door, "Get out!" He shouted.

"What?" Emil's blue eyes widened.

"I said get the hell out of my house!" Tino shouted, "If you're going to be disrespectful and just… a delinquent then I don't want you in my house, near my son. Jus—just get out!"

Emil stared up at him, stunned and hurt, "But…"

The look he gave Tino nearly killed the man, but he shook his head, his decision made, "Wait outside. I'll call Lukas to come pick you up." Tino looked away first, crossing his arms and waiting for Emil to walk out.

Emil blinked, surprised at the tears pricking his eyes. He was expecting the anger that came. The teen scoffed and brushed off the water in his eyes. He stormed out and slammed the door behind him. Emil kicked off the snow on the porch's first step to sit down. He immediately curled up, bringing up his knees and burying his head in them.

He was so upset it made him hurt, and his stomach was sick. He hated Tino for letting him stay in the first place. And then for kicking him out. He hated Lukas for making their house unbearable. He hated that he got in so much trouble. And hated himself for being such an idiot. Emil sat there hating, feeling worse and worse. He waited for Lukas until the sun disappeared behind clouds. Snow started to fall and he shivered, wishing he wasn't such and idiot and hadn't forgotten his coat. Eventually, Berwald came home from work. Studied the teen for a moment, took off his jacket and draped it over Emil.

He started to cry as soon as the fabric fell on him. Why wasn't Lukas here yet? Why wouldn't Tino let him back in? He knew that Tino was watching him out the window, and he knew that he looked pathetic and weak. But he didn't care. Emil planned on sitting in his tears, and letting the whole world see them.

AN/ I actually had this one written before tonight so that's always a plus. I like this one too. But I liked the last one before I posted it and now I think it's crap. You guys keep on reading and giving me good feedback though. I'll keep trying to make them better and better. Thanks!